


Roots

by rabitty



Series: Blackwell Coven [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Covenants, Covens, Demons, F/M, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Hell, M/M, POV Male Character, Pacts, Small Towns, Sorcerers, Soul Selling, Witchcraft, Witches, creepy towns, interdimensional lover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1915413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabitty/pseuds/rabitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to concede defeat after a rough divorce, Rose is forced to return home, to Seder Hollow, to her family. Aiden, her son, is about to meet the very people she has spent his entire life trying to shield him from, and the dark secret that lays on all who are a part of the Blackwell family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roots

**Author's Note:**

> This seems like it would be from the point of view of Rose, but it's really from Aiden's POV.

From the car I could see my mom’s hunched form in the pay phone booth outside the gas station

For the first time in my life, I was getting insight into my mother’s family. We were finally returning to the place she had always refused to tell me about, her home town and the parents she refused to acknowledge.

She wouldn’t admit it, at least not to me, but she was returning in defeat. What little I knew about her past told me that. She had fled Seder Hollow when she was eighteen, fresh out of high school and six months pregnant with me, to a childhood friend’s home in New York City. From there, from what I had slowly gathered over the years, she had given birth to me and relied on money her grandparents had left to her after their deaths for the next three years to keep us afloat. She rented a little apartment in the Bronx and got a job at a hotel two blocks away as a maid. Paying an elderly neighbor in cleaning services to watch me and getting a second job as a stripper she managed to keep poverty at bay. When I was five, she married Dave, a bouncer at the strip club where she worked, and married him when I was seven. I don’t remember the first time I met Dave, but I know that I had never liked him. He was short and nearly twice my mom’s age. His face was hard and serious, and there was always some wild cast to his eyes, something animal in them that made my skin crawl. Their marriage made no sense to me. He was rude and short tempered and looked like a bull dog, while my mom was still young and beautiful, with black curling hair, large grey eyes and elfin features. I ignored him and he ignored me, for the most part.

The trouble started last year, although I could see it coming much longer before that.

 I didn't know he had been hitting her until I had caught her without her make up one night. She had just gotten home and I was getting ready for school when I walked into her room. She tried to play off her split lip and black eye as an accident, but I knew the moment I set eyes on her that it was Dave, and I also knew it hadn't been the first time. It felt like fire racing through my veins, the anger that surged in my chest burned through out my body that in that moment all I wanted was to see Dave dead. It took some convincing, but finally my mom agreed that divorce would be for the best.  
  


Dave had been furious, but went along with the divorce. He got nearly everything in the split. Most of the money over the past decade had come directly from my mom's marriage to him, and he wasn't obligated to pay child support as I wasn't his biological son. Mom was fired by the club owner who was friends with Dave, and used his influence to ensure the only job she could get was as a janitor. With the cost of supporting both of us, and having quit her job at the hotel after marrying Dave, we had few options. We packed our things and bought enough gas with the last of our money to get to Seder Hollow. The tank was nearly empty by the time we crossed the New York state line, and running on fumes when we entered the town limits of Seder Hollow. We had coasted the rest of the way to the nearest gas station, where the car had finally given up.


End file.
